Insurgents
by Rogue Two
Summary: A decade before the Battle of Yavin an Insurgency has formed, determined to fight the Empire's influence in the Outer Rim. Its leader the so-called 'Colonel' Rieekan has pit his best pilots against the forces of Governor Tarkin's protege Admiral Howden.
1. Chapter 1

It is a period of stability, yet in many systems of the Outer Rim an Insurgency is thriving, determined to fight the growing stranglehold of the Galactic Empire. The organisation, calling itself The Insurgency against the Empire, has struck at the Imperials from a hidden base in Wild Space. After 18 months the conflict has grown into a stalemate with neither side capable of gaining the advantage. Grand Moff Tarkin's young protégé, Admiral Howden has been tasked with leading the Counter-Insurgency Command a taskforce intended to prevent any force from standing up to the Emperor.

Yet despite the stalemate the Insurgency's military leader 'Colonel' Rieekan has found a way for the Insurgent's to display their military might, plotting to launch a bold strike against Howden's secret operations base on Taloraan. Selecting some of the Insurgency's best pilots to lead the effort, the notorious Blue Squadron, led by Kal Cato and his right hand Anna Sanco have been deployed to the Taloraan to overrun the Imperial base.

Chapter I

Laser beams, fire and shrapnel streaked across the skies of Taloraan. Taloraan was all sky, a gas world with no solid surface and settlements which floated eerily in its atmosphere. A fighter squadron of Insurgent fighters and a mass of Tie Fighters raced across Taloraan's skies, engaged in a vicious dogfight. Just beneath them an Imperial base floated in the gaseous atmosphere, an Insurgent craft landing on its outermost docking bay.

The sound of an explosion echoed through the comms systems of Kia Harif's Starfighter.

"We've lost Blue Seven and Blue Nine", Kia says, panic edging into her voice. She always keeps her cool but in her mind panic often sets in during the heat of a fight. Kia, the farmer's daughter has come far in the six months since she left her home world of Dandoran to fly against the Empire.

"Blue squadron, all wings make a run past that landing platform, we need to protect the dropship" yells their acting commander, Robben Locke. 8 Starfighters rush over the landing platform providing covering fire to the seasoned Insurgent dropship known as The Defender.

One of the pilots, a blue-skinned Nautalon named Nisto, takes out an enemy Tie with a precise series of shots – sending the enemy fighter careening off into the distance.

"Good shot Blue Six" commends Locke as nearby Ties scramble through the air and begin to regroup. Kia has spent six months flying with Blue Squadron, in which Locke is a rising star and a comrade she has grown to respect. She pulls her fighter downwards taking an alternate route to her wingmates, skirting beneath the Empire's floating complex and pursuing a Tie. Kia's fighter of choice is different to her comrades, a BTL M-Wing, cousin of the Republic's Y Wing. The M Wing is distinguished by its green colouring and its three jet thrusters, it is faster but less powerful than the bomber which inspired it. The M Wing is less manoeuvrable than the Z-97 Fighters used by her wingmates but more effective in just about every other specification.

The Tie Fighter pulls into her sights as she narrows the distance between the two craft. Kia sends a string of blasts directly into the enemy fighter's hull – "gotcha". "Nice work Harif" yells Gaila Marish, Blue Five, as her Z-97 pulls up next to the M-Wing.

"More Ties inbound, all wings regroup, this is Blue Two" crackles Locke on the intercom, "we've got to buy our guys enough time".

Kal Cato, nominally Blue Leader strides through the entrance of the Imperial base as battle rages above his team. Cato is more or less the founder of the Squadron, as well as the pilot responsible for recruiting several of its key members including Locke and the woman who stands behind him. The bald grey-skinned Rattataki woman Anna Sanco, Cato's right hand woman, fierce as ever. "Time to waste some Imps" she remarks dryly as she follows Cato through the entrance. Ten more soldiers, among the more talented members of the Insurgency's ground forces stride in behind them. The group includes two Trandoshan fugitives named Chisska and Raskk, both among the toughest fighters in the Insurgency.

The group picks up pace as they jog through the black corridors of the base, an Imperial comms station, being used as regional HQ for their nemesis Admiral Howden. "Stormtroopers, dead ahead" bellows Cato as half a dozen Imperial troopers rush toward them guns blazing. Shots graze the walls and the Trandoshans throw themselves to the front of the fray, giving it their all. The gunfight is over quickly, the Insurgent's superior accuracy and bigger group getting the better of the Stormtrooper squad.

"We need to find the control room, that way we can get this over quick" urges Cato.

"Precisely, detonators ready friends?" hisses Sanco who glances at the Trandoshans.

The two reptilian soldiers nod eagerly but remain silent, waving their arms to urge the other Insurgents to hurry up.

In the skies, Kia Harif rolls her ship in an attempt to evade the shots of a pursuing Tie, the shots miss but the gap between the two fighters narrows.

"R2 reroute more power to the ship's thrusters" she insists, hoping her red astromech droid R2-E4 can save her from certain death. Moments late she feels the difference as the M-Wing picks up speed, "You haven't got me yet Imperial scum".

Gaila is the youngest pilot in the squadron as well as her most trusted wingmate. She is also something of a romantic interest to Kia and that has only solidified their abilities to work together. The two fighters skirted atop the durasteel surface of the Imperial comms station their sights firmly on a pair of turbolasers attempting to disrupt the Squadron.

They see Locke's Z-97 and Nisto's weaving amongst the clouds and shooting at the Ties, if they don't hold back these fighters their mission will surely fail. Hold back the Imperial forces until Kal Cato and his troops wreck the base, simple. A few straight shots and both turbolaser turrets are reduced to mere shrapnel.

"Some kind of enemy transport, Kia, Gaila we need you" crackles Locke who is presumably too engaged with enemy fighters to be of much use.

"Pull up, let's do this" Kia instructed the younger pilot doing just that and heading toward the signatures on her scanners. Two three-winged Imperial Landing Craft emerge from the clouds above, seemingly to reinforce the Empire's defences within the base. They won't get that far Kia thinks. We can ensure that, we will ensure it. Without a word the two pilots open fire at the Landing Craft closest to the base, their weapons thudding against the vehicle's shielded hull.

Shields or not the craft seizes and shakes as it makes its approach. Gaila takes the initiative blasting a concussion missile out of her Z-97 fighter. The rocket cracks the Landing Craft square in the centre of the cockpit. Fire and shrapnel consume their vision and the two zoom past the second ship to do a second run. With the craft in front of them their efforts are even easier. Their target can't see them and its cannons only face forwards. Gaila and Kia pound the Landing Craft with everything they've got, eventually Kia's M-Wing strikes the craft right in its starboard engine. The craft tilts heavily to one side, shaking as it does. A moment passes and the Landing Craft loses control, spinning and writhing as its pilot attempts to prevent the inevitable. And then it is gone, falling fast through Taloraan's atmosphere.

"Nice, now we need supporting fire", crackles Locke once more.

"On my way Blue Two" replies Kia firmly as the pair head back to the others.

The Empire's forces are more numerous but typically less effective. "Let's win this" growls Kia.

Kal Cato presses his thumb slowly to the panel by a door, knowing what will be behind it. The blast door slides open revealing the belly of the beast. They stand on a balcony level of a two floor control room with holo-maps, communications devices and computers covering the entirety of the first floor. Communications officers and other uniformed Imperial lackeys fill the room, they stare for a moment up at the Insurgents. The room lights up - a group of Stormtroopers open fire, Kal whips out his shatter gun, Sanco is firing, enemy officers draw pistols and join the fray. Outnumbered two to one Kal Cato can handle these odds, his faced worse from the cockpit of his Z-97. The shatter gun's muzzle flashes and an officer falls to the floor, next he eliminates a Stormtrooper, then trains his sights on a trooper covering behind a computer.

He doesn't have time to talk out the Stormtrooper as Cato himself looks for effective cover. Shots are nearing him and he doesn't have time to play sitting duck. He makes his way to a crate. The room shakes as something hits the ceiling. He swings his shatter gun upwards so it's perched on the crate – aiming at a Stormtrooper across the room. BANG. Cato is too quick for the trooper and the shot sends the white armoured soldier flying backwards.

He glances across the room Anna Sanco, Chisska and Raskk are sending blaster bolts at anywhere with movements. Three Insurgent soldiers are dead on the balcony area. Some fifteen Imperials lay strewn across the room, two troopers and two officers are all that remain. One of the troopers sends a flash grenade up on to the walkway. Cato dives to the floor, head pressed against the steel grate of the balcony. Thirty seconds pass before he can see again and he can still here the distinctive sound of blasters being fired. Another Insurgent is dead by the time he peers round to look at his comrades. A female human lays dead a few feet from Sanco, blood strewn across her face. There is a mangled crater where the woman's nose once was. He didn't even know her name.

Cato flushed with anger. He pulls himself up and sends a shot straight into a Stormtroopers head. The Trandoshans do the same with the other and Sanco is concentrating her fire on the grey uniformed enemy officers. One of them is wounded. Sanco pulls a Fragmentation Assault Grenade, an Imperial device, from her belt and throws it down into the control room. Fire wracks the room sending equipment and computers flying everywhere.

Now only one officer remains. The Imperial officer pick himself up and makes a break for the opposite door, he won't make it. Sure enough the blaster bolts of the eight remaining rebels sees to it that their quarry doesn't get far.

Miles above the comms station on Taloraan its commanding officer awaits. Steely faced and clad in the uniform of an Imperial Admiral, Holluff Howden peers out over Taloraan's bright skies. "Our transports didn't make it sir" an older officer tells Howden. Howden may be in charge of the Counter-Insurgency Command but his deputy, Vice-Admiral Maranac, was every bit as intimidating Howden himself. Admiral Howden is in his late thirties promoted young and quickly for his spectacular victories against uprisings on far flung worlds. That had impressed Governor Tarkin, a man who was known to think of Howden as a protégé. The pale dirty-blonde haired Admiral had been given full autonomy in fighting the Insurgency and some of the Empire's best forces to command. His deputy, Wald Maranac, was a decade older, inevitably more experienced and lethal in a variety of situations. Maranac was a brutal, psychotic strategist – seen as a loose cannon by some of their superiors, including Tarkin. His appointment to Howden's side was partly a response to the Vice-Admirals militant tactics. Tactics which Howden admired. Together the two hoped to go far. Howden expected that within five years he would be the Galactic Empire's youngest Grand Admiral. When that day came the Counter-Insurgency Command would be handed to Maranac, or so he hoped.

"Vice-Admiral, gather a platoon, bring Storm Commandos and board your Landing Craft". Howden referred to the bulky four-winged Landing Craft used by the Vice-Admiral, a brutal assault craft which had been used in many successful battles against the Insurgency. The Landing Craft was near unique and large enough to transport 70 Stormtroopers.

"Do what damaged you can, then depart the comms station – The Salvation will bombard it, better to destroy the intelligence banks than let it fall into enemy hands". The Salvation was Howden's pride, a prototype Star Destroyer triple the size of the conventional 'Imperial Class' Destroyers. Its shielding system was superior to the other capital ships used by the empire and while bristling with turbolaser turrets, some of its weapons were hidden. Now it was stationed in Taloraan's upper atmosphere, a few miles from the battle. "Bring more Ties too". Fighters would be necessary to repel the incessant nuisance of Blue Squadron. His lip curled as the Admiral thought of the vile Insurgents who had pestered the Empire for months. Howden would do his duty, terrorists could not be allowed to overrun the Empire.

"We're detecting more fighters and something larger" echoed a semi-robotic voice through Kia's comms. It belonged to Valen Doal one of their new recruits, a Kel-Dor from Dorin. His mechanised sounding voice was a consequence of Doal's breathing mask, which he required to process oxygen. Doal was an effective pilot, hardly the best in the squadron, but that was simply testament to Blue Squadron's skill.

Doal's Z-97 zoomed through the skies behind Kia's M-Wing it's supporting fire helping to send the remaining Ties scattering. One of the enemy fighters exploded into a ball of flames. Doal's handiwork. "Damn good shot", she noted. Gaila Marish sped past in her Z-97 chasing another enemy fighter. Locke and Nisto were stilling fighting side by side through the skies. Jacen Cowlin a veteran human pilot had taken a hit but his fighter was continuing to limp along, haven taken out three Ties already.

The first wave of new enemies emerged from the skies, a malevolent miracle. Fifteen Tie Fighters. Just what they needed thought Kia. She could see on her scanners a second ship, a transport, was approaching – approximately half a minute away

Corpses litter the control room. Dead men and women, one side fighting against the oppression of the Empire, the other convinced that the Empire is the last defense against the collapse of proper civilisation. Kal Cato's comlink crackles, "Blue Leader, this is Blue Four, Kia Harif, do you read me?"

"Affirmative we've overrun the control room, can you tell The Defender to prepare to pick us up from the rear landing platform?"

"No problem, there's a large enemy transport heading your way"

"Then it's time for us to leave Blue Four"

A moment of apprehensive silence followed, interrupted by an exclamation from Kia's end.

"BLAST, looks like there's a capital ship inbound, Admiral Howden's command ship. We got time but not long."

"The Salvation? Kia? Tell all wings to prepare to evacuate. That's an order".

Cato didn't wait for a reply he beckoned to Sanco and the others and ran toward the rear landing platform. The eight Insurgents sprinted out and across a bridge onto the next section of the complex. The group took a left turn, moving down a dimly lit steel-walled corridor and often a short while entering a black antechamber of some sort. "Is this the wrong way?" Sanco asked, "I think we took a wrong turn".

Sure enough the group had wound up heading to some sort of dead end. A black metal column jutted out of the floor and it was this which caught Sanco's attention, who pressed one of the glowing buttons on the device. Parts of the walls begin to light up in a luminous blue. It takes a few moments for Cato to work out what exactly he is looking at

"Archives?"

"This is some sort of Imperial data room" explains Sanco matter of factly. After a look round, she begins interacting with the console, while the others observe uneasily.

"Shouldn't we get the hell out of here?"

"This intel might just be as valuable as the mission itself" she insists with a calm gravity.

She pulls a device from her belt and swiftly plugs it into the interface. They won't have much time though, not much at all.

"Guys, I want a perimeter around this room. Chisska, Raskk, you're the toughest fighters here – that means you both take the lead"

"We'll draw some Imperial blood" Chisska insists with a calm malevolence. The Two Trandoshans lead the others out of the room and up towards the corridor. Cato glances back at Sanco yet remains silent. He proceeds to bound down the corridor, shatter gun at his side. They reach the turning that leads back to the control room and begin to point guns toward the door. A group of seven versus several times more Stormtroopers is the likely scenario.

Reaching for his comlink Cato attempts to get through to Blue Squadron. Locke responds, "Blue Two standing by, what's the situation sir?".

"We've found valuable intel, how are things faring?"

Shots on both sides interrupt Cato and Locke. The first group of Stormtroopers are heading toward them blasters blazing. A trio of black Storm Commandos are at the head of the group. The commandos look like black armoured Scout Troopers with thicker armour and beefier guns, they also shoot with precision. He, Chisska and the others open fire – taking out Stormtroopers, wounding one commando and slowing the advance of the rest. Within moments Raskk is down and out having taken two shots to the throat. The second Trandoshan snarls concentrating fire on the closest commando. Together their shots bring down the nearest Storm Commando and force the wounded commando to dive into an alcove.

"Thermal detonator" Cato demands.

A hairy Bothan soldier delivers the explosive sending the Stormtroopers backwards and killing at least three in the corridor ahead.

"GO GO GO" Sanco is bellowing behind them, she has the data. "Move out" affirms Cato with a shout, sending a series of shots into the smoke that clouds the corridor. As they smoke clears and Cato heads out he recognises the outline of an officer, Vice-Admiral Maranac.

As the group flees, Maranac's parting gifts head their way. A well-placed shot strikes Chisska dead between the eyes. The Trandoshan falls with a surprised hiss and thuds against the durasteel flooring. There's a flash as the remaining Insurgents rush down the correct corridor. The flash grenade doesn't land near Cato but it still hurts his eyes and impairs his vision. In the madness he opens up his comlink and patches through to their ride home.

"Defender? This is Captain Kal Cato, we'll be arriving at the rear landing platform in seconds – Imperials are in pursuit. Rally all wings at the rear platform.

Kia's M-Wing screeches over the top of the complex. She's seen that huge four-winged landing craft arriving and countless Stormtroopers spilling out. Valen Doal and Jacen Cowlin had strafed the platform twice, taking out perhaps as many as twenty troopers. The Ties had mostly rallied to the defense of the Landing Craft largely abandoning the Insurgent fighters as targets.

She screeches to their destination, the smaller read landing platform. The Defender a ship the shape of a cylinder, with a round cockpit one end and an access door in the middle lands quickly. Cato, Sanco and four other Insurgent soldiers rush onto the platform and board in seconds. It looks like half of the squad didn't make it. At least they succeeded, at least Locke and Sanco are alive. Kia feels a hint of guilt, she cares for the two members of the team she knows but she feels little loss for the brave soldiers she's never got to know.

Ties are inbound. Half a dozen of the fighters come their way, evidently hoping to destroy The Defender. Not a chance. Kia's M-Wing and the rest of Blue Squadron move into gear and engage the fighters. One evades her sights, banking heavily to the right. Kia responds with an elegant pirouette. Once she's flying straight again the Tie has fallen into her sights and she lets rip.

"Easy" she mutters relieved.

"Don't get complacent Blue Four", chides Gaila, "Time to scram".

The Defender lifts up and heads toward the sky, all of Blue Squadron heads with it, knowing full well that Tie Fighters are in pursuit. Then she sees it on her scanners. The Salvation is just above them, more Ties are being deployed.

"All ships turn starboard" urges Locke.

Each of the fighters, along with The Defender, head away from the oncoming onslaught and accelerate to full speed.

"R2, re-route more power?".

The droids bleeping replies indicate the droid lacks the ability to do any more. As they head up through the atmosphere, Kia quickly sees that there most immediate threat isn't the Ties. A section of The Salvation's hull, just in front of the bridge, opens up revealing seeking-missile launchers. Usually a capital ship is relatively ill-equipped to combat a decent Starfighter. Ships like Kia's M-Wing can usually evade turbolaser fire and turrets. Yet the missiles like these are much more tricky. Whoever is flying The Defender takes the initiative. The vehicle's front facing blaster cannons spin 180 degrees so that suddenly the transport is directing its cannons towards the missiles. Shot after shot misses and the missiles close in. Then all in a moment one of the missiles strikes a Z-97, blasting it into oblivion and the cannon fire of The Defender finally hits the second missile. Kia gasps and attempts to get a proper bearing of which fighter belongs to which pilot. Is Gaila alive? Her head told her that it was somebody else who's craft had been struck but the fear was palpable, almost enough to overcome her. Who was it?

"This is Blue Two, I repeat this is Blue Two… We lost Dalmo. Blue Ten is down."

Lucien Dalmo, a relatively new pilot from Chandrila. He had been with them for just a month. He'd been older than Harif but simultaneously less experienced. A good pilot and a true-believer in fighting the Empire. Dalmo was a good man no doubt. Those feelings of guilt mixed with relief were returning. Gaila, Locke, Nisto were alive – all things that were unequivocally good. Yet Blue Squadron had not made it out unscathed. Their ships approached the atmosphere, Ties attacking like Massif pups yapping at the owner's heels. Fighters were damaged but the rest of them were alive. A handful of seconds passed before the Insurgent Starfighters were out into open space, preparing to make the jump to light speed.

"R2, the co-ordinates for Teth". The scarlet astromech droid beeped and whistled in affirmation. It's time to go home". Kia opens her mouth to sigh with relief.


	2. Chapter 2

Seven ships pull out of hyperspace. The Septet dive down through the Jungle-world's atmosphere. Five Z-97 Starfighters each with two wings, a long nose and an astromech droid behind its cockpit. The 97 is a more versatile cousin of its predecessor, the Republic's Z-95 Headhunter. Two ships fly at the back. One is Kia Harif's M-Wing, the other is The Defender, a cylindrical dropshop and an essential component of some of Blue Squadron's activities. For miles they fly over jungle and mountains, Teth has no notable inhabitants.

From what Kia has heard, Kal Cato chose Teth for that specific reason. Besides he knew it from his years as a freighter pilot in Hutt Space. Kia had taken that path too. Born on a peasant farm on Dandoran, Kia had been keen to get offworld at her first opportunity. Three years ago she had left - she had been only nineteen at the time – and began working in freight for Ninshula the Hutt. Cato's backstory had many similarities but unlike Kia it had more violence, death and many twists and turns. The younger pilots didn't talk about it but Kal Cato had killed somebody close to him. In Kia's understanding it had been justifiable and besides it was around a decade ago.

The Insurgent squadron reached a large sinkhole. One by one each ship began to slowly lower itself down into the hole. What looked like a large stone surface slipped open, a door the size of several ships – the entrance to the Insurgent's hanger bay. Kia was last. By the time her M-Wing floated into the hanger bay, some of the pilot's had exited their ships. This was Alpha Base. The headquarters of their budding insurgency.

"R2 I'll need you to check our diagnostics, thanks".

She reminded herself that thanking droids was unnecessary and slightly abnormal. Her red astro R2-E4 may have been reliable but thanking it was a little too far. On Dandoran she hadn't been used to droids. The farm her family had rented had been worked primarily by hand. When they did use droids they were hired and her parents had taken charge of the machines. She glanced back at the droid, making a note that she trusted the damned thing more than many sentients. As she climbed out of the M-Wing she catches sight of Colonel Rieekan, their chief strategist. The Alderaan born Colonel who had helped co-found their Insurgency. It had been Rieekan who via studying enemy troop movements became convinced Taloraan had strategic importance to the Counter-Insurgency Command. Blue Squadron answered directly to the Colonel, and together they had struck some of their harshest blows against the Imperials. Yet Kia was well aware they were fighting the Empire at its fringes, often only fighting skirmishes of mediocre strategic importance. The loss of Taloraan's comms station was largely symbolic. It would make the news on Coruscant but few Imperials would feel panicked by its loss. Kia hoped Howden, Tarkin's little pet, would at least be one of those few.

A helmeted pilot in a red flightsuit rushed out in front of her, pulling off her helmet to reveal the Rattataki Anna Sanco and striding over to the Colonel.

"Colonel Rieekan, we raided an Imperial databank at Taloraan. I managed to download a large archive of information. A treasure trove of enemy intel."

Colonel Rieekan looked pleasantly surprised. "Excellent Sanco, this is better than we could've expected. Let's take what we've got to the Command Centre. I'll get a team analysing the data right away". Sanco pulled the datastick from her belt and passed into the Colonel. Cato ran to join the pair with an eager smile.

"Colonel we may have vital data. The archive is Howden's it could be of immense use to us".

"I've just heard Blue Leader, if you'd like to come with me your expertise would be welcome".

Rieekan turned to Kia and the remaining pilots in the hanger, "there'll be no official debrief, you're all free to go. Thank you. Our Insurgency lives on, but so does the Empire".

The four-winged Landing Craft, Maranac's Titan-class Lander, can be seen streaming toward them. Admiral Howden gazes out from the bridge's viewing port aboard The Salvation. Blasting the comms station had been no use, so he had instructed the gunners to hold back. Their Insurgent quarry had escaped with only one casualty during the Insurgent's retreat. Taloraan's station had been overrun and the databank's had been pillaged. Tarkin must not be allowed to know, yet it was also too late to retrieve that data. BLAST.

The locations of dozens of secret outposts were secured inside that databank. Not to mention construction facilities, a Special Forces training centre and a list of sites suitable for new outposts. The only saving grace was those files which were encrypted. The codes were not sophisticated enough to be uncrackable though. The Insurgents would find a way to access all of that data. He would have to predict which location the Insurgents would strike at first. It would be a game of cat and mouse. But right now he felt the urge to strike out or strike back. His fingers wound around the pistol holstered at his side. In the corner of his eye he saw two approaching aides, both looking concerned.

"Captain Morlynd. Pray you have good news for me."

"Apologies admiral, I can't say I have" began the officer, nervously scratching his head.

"Spit it out boy. It takes courage to be a good Imperial".

"There is an attempt to contact you from Coruscant sir. Someone relaying a message from high up".

Captain Morlynd led Howden the private comms room at the back of the bridge. Normally he welcomed such messages. But today it was clear that he had been defeated, Howden didn't have good news to present.

As he entered the holotransmitter flickered on automatically. Morlynd departed quickly and silently. A life size hologram appeared, an Admiral whom Howden was familiar with gazed at him, Admiral Barton Coburn. A tall and stern man approaching seventy years. Corburn was balding, with prominent eyebrows, turquoise eyes and a permanently unsmiling face.

"I am already well aware of what has happened on Taloraan, Howden. There is only dismay at your efforts here on Coruscant".

That stung. Victories on Florrum, Tanaab, Agamar and Garel. Coburn should not forgot that Howden does not falter often. But after all Admiral Coburn has a reputation for not suffering fools. Howden's lip curls.

"And you are relaying a message from whom? The Imperial Security Bureau are concerned. Governor Tarkin is disappointed. Displeased."

So this was from high up.

"The Insurgents have a presence on Wayland. Tell Grand Moff Tarkin that their presence will be eradicated this evening. And tell him that this will be followed by another trap. I will lure them to their demise". Howden's voice could not be any icier. If it were he would probably freeze the room. Coburn would be shivering all the way on Coruscant.

"I will relay your message Howden". Admiral Coburn had an unusually thick accent for an Imperial Admiral. His rank and prominence was a testament to skill Howden knew, not to birth. Howden's promotions were a consequence of both, not to mention his friendship with Tarkin. Coburn carried on with a stern look for a moment, then the transmission ended.

Howden pondered his plans. Striking at the Insurgent holdout on Wayland was easy. Making an example of them would be effortless. But it would not be enough to guarantee preservation of Howden's reputation. He had half-lied about the second part to Coburn. There was no planned trap, merely an aspiration for smart vengeance. Behind him the door slid open. Only one man aboard The Salvation would disturb him in his private communications room. Vice-Admiral Wald Maranac stood at the door, there was a sense of fury about him. Clad in an all-black uniform which was not appropriate for a Vice-Admiral it was easy to see that Maranac was an unconventional officer. His officer's cap was different in that a long black fabric extended down from the back of the cap down the back of Maranac's head all the way to his shoulders, almost like a hood. Over his black Imperial tunic Maranac wore a plain black trench coat – not part of the expected uniform.

"We can't allow this humiliation. Can't let _them_ have the last laugh. The Wayland Insurgents are vulnerable, there is barely more than a platoon on the planet" Maranac says.

"Your like-mindedness is excellent. I was preparing to task you with this same job Vice-Admiral".

Their like-mindedness is extraordinary. Tarkin had not just sent Maranac here because of the Vice-Admiral's brutality. The man was a quicker thinker than most men of his rank. The 'loose cannon' tendencies that had made Maranac an undesired presence on the capital masked a strategic mind that could be truly lethal.

"Go." Says Howden slowly and icily.

"I'll bring these thugs to justice. We're doing the Galaxy a huge favour" replies Maranac gruffly.

"Board your ship. Two small cruisers on the southern edge of the planet will come with you. You should outnumber them three to one".

Maranac departs. There is real anger in the man. A deep-seated hate of the Insurgents. Howden knew it to be rooted in Maranac's experiences. A different Insurgent cell had killed many people on Maranac's Outer-Rim homeworld. His wife had been one casualty. Maranac's sister had been collateral damage. The Vice-Admiral's son had almost died, his face irreparably burned by an Insurgent's grenade. Their current Insurgents had no direct links to those whom had killed the Vice-Admirals family, but the narrative of terrorists against the Empire remained the same.

Flames rise up from a jungle clearing on Teth. Around two-dozen people watch in a sort of reverence. A bearded brown-haired man stands in front of the rest. The man's face is grave. The man, Kal Cato begins to speak slowly.

"Lucien Dalmo was talented. Dalmo was honest. Dalmo had integrity. And courage…"

Cato pauses and stares at the flames. There is no body to burn. Dalmo's body was lost in the atmosphere of Taloraan. Instead they took out clothes, holobooks and an ornate ring. Anything for a proper funeral ritual.

"Dalmo had only been with us for a month. But he fought bravely. Shot down four ties before Taloraan. He painted four red streaks on his ship to show it. His fifth kill was yesterday. Before the Empire took us from him." Cato pauses for some time, he isn't cut out to be a funeral orator. Most of them aren't.

"I'm going to break the news to his family tomorrow morning. They ought to know." Cato strides off into the jungle back towards the base.

Colonel Rieekan mutters "You did well Kal". There is no reply. Kia watches solemnly, Robben Locke next to her on one side, Gaila Marish next to her on the other.

"A good man. You should be proud." Mutters Rieekan before departing too. The flames crackle. Is that it Kia thinks? Poor soul. Gradually, one by one, they all depart until only Valen Doal remains. Kia was aware that Doal had known him best. The Kel Dor pilot had been something of a mentor to Dalmo. She suspected his death felt rawest to Doal. She left Doal alone with the fire, the jungle and the stars looming over Teth.

Back inside the hanger of Alpha Base, Robben Locke sits atop an upturned crate. He flicks at a strand of his smooth jet black hair. He pulls back on the kubaz cigarra, inhaling a hefty amount of smoke. Locke opens his mouth and begins to violently cough. There is snorting and laughter from the surrounding Insurgents.

"You novice" mocks Kal Cato dryly, retrieving the cigarra and taking a casual puff.

"It ain't for me" insists Locke indignantly.

Jacen Cowlin one of the veterans of Blue Squadron smirks, "clearly hotshot". A twang of sarcasm. Locke ignores it. It was he who had commanded the fighter squadron over Taloraan, not Cowlin, the older man was probably envious. Well possibly. He'd come along way from being an eager boy on Raxus. The smoke still strains his lungs. His scar on his shoulder twitches with pain. A scar given to him by Vice-Admiral Maranac some six months ago. Locke wants vengeance but he suspects it won't come to him. Not damn yet anyway. The Raxus-born pilot has grown a good deal since his wiry teenage years. A dark-blue tattoo stripe streaks across the middle of his face, stubble lines his jaw and a moustache is growing.

He sees Kia Harif entering the hanger bay. Like most of them she is still clad in that blue-grey flight suit, and she carries a white fighter pilot's helmet. A striking woman no doubt, not to mention a budding ace. The human woman is Olive skinned, with big brown eyes and thick dark hair. She's got a slim athletic frame. There is next to no doubt that she's attractive. Though she has a certain boyish roughness that reminds Locke of himself. She'd throw a heavy punch at anyone who gets in her way. Locke has seen it before.

He watches Cato get up and swagger over to Kia across the steel flooring of the hanger. He hands her a Weequay brew in a transparisteel flask and insists that she drink it. Kia obliges without reluctance. Locke goes over and wrests it from Cato, taking a large swig of the brew. Alcohol is easier than cigarras. He also finds it more pleasant.

"Glad to see you're not fully soft Locke. We'll make a Squadron leader of you yet."

"Sooner than you know, commander" replies Locke, taking another sip of the drink. The liquid is thick and dark brown, with bits of fruit in it. Some kind of fruit whiskey he presumes? The taste isn't bad and it's starting to hit Locke. An astromech droid brushes past and begins communicating with Kia. She puts a hand on its head affectionately.

"Good job. Now hop to it, you'll need a recharge R2". R2-E4. Kia has a habit of talking to it like its human.

"Any idea what we're doing next captain?" he asks Cato. Kal shakes his head.

'Not quite. Our man in Qiilura will be reporting to us in the morning. Meanwhile I'm hoping someone cracks that Imperial databank. The encrypted info is gonna be invaluable. Hopefully they'll get data on key strategic Imperial installations. That wouldn't even be optimistic to expect that much. Robben Locke nods and is about to strike up a conversation with Kia, when the youngest pilot edges into the conversation.

The half-Theelin, half-human from Denon. Nineteen year old Gaila Marish. She's the daughter of a Theelin entrepreneur on Denon, her aunt and uncle are involved in Imperial politics. Locke was even aware that her cousin was training to become an Imperial Officer. The girl isn't cut from the same cloth as urchins like Kia, Cato and Locke. Or any of them.

"Kia, Cato, Robben how are you all?" they interrupt into chatter. Locke notices that Gaila keeps glancing at Kia. They fancy each other. Shame, the two girls were both alluringly good-looking. Kia Harif with warmth, big-brown eyes and radiant skin. Gaila Marish with her ice-pale skin, sleek blonde hair and those Theelin horns and freckles.

"You flew well earlier Locke. You make a good acting commander" she insists.

"Not quite a real Blue Leader though" retorts Cato with a smile.

It is night on Qiilura. A trio of barns and a simple rundown homestead sit at the edge of the planet's lush fields. The Insurgent soldiers smoke and share stories. Sven Nyan's stories are the loudest and the wildest. His stories have the soldiers laughing in stitches at one moment, solemn and attentive at the next. The Sullustan pilot is flavour of the hour here. The men, once farmers, love him. He's here because he escorted a shipment of supplies to them – food and ammunition. Without it they might have already succumbed to the Imperial garrison. His ship, a Z-97 with many special modifications sits in one of the barns. Sergeant Enkling smacks him on the back. The sergeant is a bulky human, once a farmer, with scars all over his face and a gruff demeanour.

"You're really something Nyan. I'm glad Cato sent you here. You leave morning right?" the grizzled Insurgent sergeant pouts. An odd sight. As the Sullustan pilot nods he hears a sound overhead. The men aren't expecting anybody. What that means is unnerving. Imperials? The Sullustan rushes out from the barn, pistol in hand. Amid the starry skies are three ships – getting increasingly close to them. Maranac's landing craft and two light Imperial cruisers. Each cruiser carries four AT-DP's which hang beneath the cruiser's hull. A rocket glides up toward one cruiser and takes out an AT-DP. Great. Only seven walkers to go.

"We can't win this" Nyan tells the sergeant.

"No. These are our farms though. So we kill their commander. And die on our feet like soldiers".

Already men around them are falling to the ground dead. Cannon fire rains down toward the ground as the three ships get closer. Nyan raises his pistol and opens fire. He aims at anything that he might be of use fighting against. He lands two shots against the shuttles cockpit, its shields ensure that both blasts are relatively valueless. The landing craft edges closer and closer to the ground until it is hovering above the grass some thirty feet in front of the barn. The craft's forward laser cannons fire. A trio of soldiers are blasted backwards, none get up. As the two cruisers near the ground, the landing craft's ramp unloads. Stormtroopers charge out, countless troopers. A Duro soldier cries out and is shot backwards. The body lands at Nyan's feet. No time to hesitate Nyan. The Sullustan opens fire again, taking down two Stormtroopers in quick succession, wounding a third seconds later. But it has now become fully clear which way the battle is going. Nyan retreats toward the door, taking cover behind the metal shutter door of the barn. The Imperial Walkers are now being dropped to the ground. Insurgent men scream, they are being ground to a bloody pulp. He peeks out and trains his sight on a fourth trooper. But before he can pull the tragger a rebel grenade goes off obscuring Nyan's vision. Another grenade explodes two seconds later, followed by a third. Sergeant Enkling is the source of the explosives. The sergeant is at the corner of the barn taking cover. A shot grazes Enkling's shoulder.

Heavier cannons begin to fire. The AT-DP's have been waiting patiently, leaving the heavier lifting for the ground troops. Not now. The tall metal walkers spring into action, taking aim at the handful of surviving Insurgent troops. Of the seven Insurgents who haven't died or fled, four are swiftly blasted with the cannons. Gone before they even had time scream. Their weapons and bodies lie smouldering and unrecognisable on the ground. The remaining trio sprint back toward the barn, dropping a thermal detonator behind them which promptly hits pursuing Stormtroopers. Imperial troopers scream. Nyan sees a Stormtroopers body fly through the air before coming crashing back down to earth. Nyan is now in the barn with the three other soldiers. Two humans and a Nikto. The remnants of a platoon.

"We surrender", the older human male cries out. The others pause and then proceed to shout out "we surrender" with the same desperation in their voices. Stormtroopers and an officer race into the barn pointing blasters at them and seizing their weapons. Nyan recognises the pilot to be one Vice-Admiral Maranac. In that unique Imperial officer's uniform, a beefy blaster rifle with a wider muzzle in the officer's hands. The group are dragged out, finding a wounded Enkling standing outside, his hands on his head. Enkling is bleeding from the left shoulder and from the right arm. The grizzled warrior has four blasters trained on him. There must be two dozen additional Stormtroopers surrounding the barn, not to mention a squad of black-clad Storm Commandos. Enemy special forces. Ruthless and skilled unlike many of their white-armoured counterparts.

"You are to be made an example of" bellows Maranac. "Your allies' strike against us on Taloraan will not go unpunished. We are here because you are the first to be penalised. Peasants taking up arms against the very Empire that protects them. That is truly an evil delinquency. I would call it terrorism".

"We are here because of what you do to our world. How you occupy Qiilura and brutalise our people. Because we don't just grow crops to feed the Empire's war machine" yells Enkling in defiance.

"Armed rebellion is no proper way to resolve your grievances. The Empire's job is to keep order in this galaxy. To protect those who would be abused by you thugs". Before Enkling can reply the Vice-Admiral takes a grenade from his belt and jams it into the Insurgent sergeant's mouth. Nyan moves toward the Vice-Admiral. He will die killing Maranac. That is better than a morbid execution. Yet Stormtroopers, three of them, restrain him. More troopers still point blasters at his head. So instead he watches. Watches as Maranac has the sergeant cuffed, as the sergeant is kicked to the ground by Maranac. Watches as Maranac sets the detonator to explode in five seconds. Watches as a group of Stormtroopers hastily throw Enkling away toward the barn. The explosion shakes the ground, shakes the barn, it shakes Nyan. The sight, the sound it is all appalling. It is the worst fate he has seen of another being. Maranac simply looks coldly at them, there is no emotion on the man's face.

"Which of you pilot's the Z-97?" the Vice-Admiral asks, motioning toward the ship which can be seen inside a burning barn. They all pause for a moment.

"I" the Sullastan says, "It is mine". What does the Vice-Admiral want with the ship? Who is next? Why such brutality? Even for the Empire that execution was truly vile.

"Return to your friends. Tell them what you saw, what you are about to see."

The troopers shove him with their rifles. And Nyan sprints off towards his ship. He doesn't dare to look back. He hears blasterfire and screams, the remaining men are being executed.

"We are sending a message" the Vice-Admiral bellows as Nyan disappears off toward the ship.


End file.
